Collision Repair
by OnTheWildside
Summary: Just a little short story based on Mac and his Mac-ness by the request of the wonderful Alva Starr. Contains murder, rape, language, and violence. (But what Mac-smut doesn't?)
1. Part 1

**So, this is going to be a Mac two- part "one-shot". It's for the wonderful Alva Starr. She sent me a request that I just couldn't refuse. I know she told me to take my time, but inspiration struck and I decided this one should be up for Whiskey Wednesday. Look for part two next Wednesday, if all goes well.**

**Prompt Summary(for this chapter): **

_Female OC fights off a rapist with a wooden board full of nails. The rapist is brutally murdered and Mac witnesses the whole thing and is incredibly turned on._

**I'm not sure if it was supposed to be pure PWP or not, but I added some plot so it's a bit lengthy. I decided to work in the smut for everyone's general enjoyment and of course a few extra twists and turns. I kind of went a little bit overboard. This one is unlike most of my Mac fiction and this was definitely a bit of a challenge. I hope I did you proud, Alva!**

******Shout out to Annabeth who reads all my shit and for helping me pick the name!**

**Reviews and alerts are greatly appreciated. Encouragement makes the updates quicker! ;)**

**Warning:**** As with all of my Mac fics, this isn't for the faint of heart. This chapter has graphic rape and murder sequences, foul language, and general Mac-ness. You have been warned.**

* * *

Aberdeen Strickland was definitely lost. Stan had said Cainville was a straight shot from the highway, but he never mentioned the road was barren and completely abandoned. Each rock formation and canyon began to look the same to her and she was debating on turning around and heading back to L.A.

When her cousin, Stan, had called her about a job, she wasn't sure what she was getting into. Stan had definitely always been a black sheep in their family, but that was okay because she was also in the same boat. They kind of gravitated towards each other. She jumped at the opportunity to even just see her cousin, even if he was involved in some shady things. She imagined his job as a mechanic was a rouse for something darker and seedy, but she was no stranger to shady behavior and could overlook that minor detail.

To be honest, she needed a break from L.A. This trip came at a perfect time.

She came upon a road sign, finally, the first one for miles. It read: "Cainville, UT: Next Exit."

"Finally." She muttered to herself.

The exit was just beyond the sign. She took the turn and almost immediately she saw a small complex in the middle of nowhere. She spotted a large white sign. "The Luna Mesa Oasis." In that spot stood a motel, a gas station, what looked like a bar called the Luna Mesa, and that tiny garage she had driven all this way for.

She parked her lime green Honda Accord just outside of the door. The garage door to the shop was opened and she could see heads turning when she pulled up. Her car was a bit of a showstopper. Some of her best work, by far. Not only was it lime green, but the intricate black marquees on the sides and hood were rather breathtaking.

She was used to getting gawked at, not only for her vehicle, but for her own looks as well. She was what most people would call beautiful. She had vibrant blue eyes and deep auburn hair that reached almost her mid back. Her body was taught and lean, but with feminine curves. She had a nice hour glass figure. She used that to her advantage, wearing clothing that left little to the imagination. She liked to show off her curves and her body art. Her milky white skin was peppered with tattoos; mostly large pieces on her shoulder, thigh, and ribcage. She also had smaller things like words in cursive in more deceptive places like her fingers, or in white ink along her arms.

Today she had chosen a simple white crop top and high wasted denim shorts. As she stepped out of the car, she simply straightened her clothing, slipping on her Doc Martens and bending in half to tie them. She hated driving in shoes, especially for long distances.

She snapped back to her full stance and noticed a set of piercing blue eyes staring at her from by the office in the garage. Her eyes got big as she took him in; dingy light brown hair, chiseled cheek bones, a smattering of chin scruff, and those eyes. There was no denying he had rugged good looks.

Stan popped up beside him and waved her in. She took a deep breath and shut the door of her car, walking inside the garage and right up to this tall, dark stranger.

"Cuz!" Stan exclaimed, embracing the girl.

"Long time no see, huh?" She laughed.

She caught the handsome stranger staring at her chest as she pulled away from her cousin. She gave him a cautionary glare but he never faltered, merely licking his lower lip and raising his brow at the delicious creature before him.

"Aw, shit. Abs, this is Mac. He kind of runs things around here. Mac, this is my cousin."

"Strickland." She said, cutting him completely off. "You can call me Strickland."

Stan gave her a quizzical look, but quickly brushed it off.

"Ye ain't tell me she was such a hot piece o' tail." Mac drawled. "Make me wanna have a taste." His eyes devoured her, skimming all the lines and curves. Aberdeen had caught a glimpse of the scabs along his throat as she was ignoring his pensive stare. She also hadn't missed the rotting teeth in his psychotic smile.

"Come on, Mac. She's family." Stan tried to laugh off the obvious advance. "She's had a tough week. Her boyfriend left her."

"Uh, no. Let's get something straight, here. I left that cheating asshole. Not the other way around!" Aberdeen snarled defensively.

"Ye come out here all alone then, sweetheart?" Mac's ears seemed to perk up at this news.

"Where's this wreck of car you needed me to work on?" Aberdeen said, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, yeah." Stan said. "That would be it over there." He pointed to the lift farthest from them. On it, sitting about three feet off the ground, was a 2000 Dodge Viper. The car appeared to have once been red, but it was hard to tell. It had definitely seen better days. "We found it on the side of the highway a few weeks ago, completely abandoned. Wasn't nothin' wrong with it. We decided to restore it."

"All it really needs is a new coat o' paint. Maybe a nice buffin'." Mac mused, running his forefinger over his scruffy chin. "Yew kin do that, darlin'?" The way he said it gave Aberdeen the chills, but she tried to fight it.

"I can do whatever you need me to do." She smirked at her obvious innuendo.

"She's the best." Stan beamed.

"S'not stolen, is it?" She asked, walking over to the tiny sports car.

"Naw. People who owned it won't be needin' it." Mac almost laughed. Aberdeen's chills didn't go away.

She approached the car and ran her hands over the scuffed up paint job. "What were we thinkin'?"

"Somethin' simple. Maybe black or blue."

"Cyan." She said simply.

"The fuck's that?" Mac muttered.

"I don't do simple. I do custom." She crossed her arms under her chest and face him. "Cyan is a very unique blue. It looks best on sports cars."

"Whatever." He snarled. "Just make it look nice."

"We have a guy interested in the car already, but it needs to be presentable. Make it pretty. We sell it, you get a cut." Stan explained further, trying to cut the sexual tension in the room.

"A third?" She asked, amusingly.

Mac scoffed at the idea. "Ye'll get paid alright. Ain't just gonna be a third, neither."

"The way I see it, you boys didn't put in any work. You call me all the way out here to the middle of bumfuck nowhere to paint this piece of trash, I want an equal cut of the profit." She bit her lip. "What happens if no one buys it?"

"Whatcha wan'?" Mac sneered, obviously bristling.

"I want $20 an hour for the labor. Then a third once it sells. It's only fair."

"Done." Mac growled. He liked her moxy. He also realized that he had to agree to the terms or else she'd walk. He didn't want her going anywhere.

Aberdeen was surprised that Mac had given in so easily. She was thinking her powers of persuasion were invincible when he continued. "We still makin' deals?" He suggestively raised his eyebrows and bit his lower lip.

"I got what I want." She purred, tying her hair up into a high bun. "Let's get started."

Stan dissappeard into a nearby shelving unit and returned with a dark navy colored coverall. "Here." He said, handing the garment to his cousin. "We've got work to do, anyway. Come'on Mac."

Mac grunted in response, giving her one last snide glance before following Stan to the other side of the garage. His eyes didn't leave Aberdeen's body as she slipped into the coveralls, tying the arms around her waist instead of wearing them the traditional way. She walked back over to her car, popping the trunk and pulling out a large, black men's shirt. It was covered in paint splatters. She tugged it on over her crop top. She then pulled out a large case and drug it back to the Viper in the garage.

She had her work cut out for her.

* * *

It took most of the afternoon to get the car prepped for paint. She took off all the chrome and lights, then sanded the old paint off and washed off all of the residue before she covered the glass and taped off the edges.

Mac claimed he had somewhere to go just before the sun set and left her and Stan to finish cleaning up and shutting the garage down.

She stripped off her old shirt and the coveralls as her cousin tidied up. "Is he always so…" She stopped to think of an adjective, but she couldn't.

"Just stay away from him." Stan said in a very serious tone. "Wanna go get a drink?"

"Sounds perfect."

They locked the garage and crossed the lot, lumbering towards the bar at the center of it all.

"Luna Mesa?"

"Place like the moon."

She gave one last glance around at the scenery before they entered the bat wing doors of the establishment. "You can say that shit again."

"Still drink whiskey?" Stan asked.

"I can still drink you on your ass, if that's what your asking."

"Walter!" He hollered. A older man, obviously of Spanish descent came forward and gave the man a good once over before replying. "Walt, this is my baby cousin –"

"Strickland." She butted in again.

"Don' look much like a baby." The man said, giving her a leering glance. "Pretty girl, gracing my presence. What can I get you?"

"Jameson, straight and neat."

"Have a seat." He nodded at her. She and her male counterpart sat at the bar, taking stools closest to the door.

Seconds later, drinks appeared.

* * *

By two in the morning, the cousins were both completely shit-faced. It was closing time and suddenly Aberdeen realized she had no where to stay.

"Motel is $30 a night." Walter told her. "S'not much, but it's clean."

"Sounds good to me." She smiled. Her stance was wavering and she started to lean to the left. She grabbed the bar and pulled herself forward, leaning against the oak counter for support.

"Stay as long as you want. Pay me when you leave." Walter handed her a tiny key with the number 5 on the key ring.

"Thanks." She smiled at the kind gesture.

"Need me to walk ye?" Stan asked.

"It's like five feet away." She laughed.

"And you're not exactly walking straight." He ushered her out the door and they stopped somewhere near his own vehicle. "You know, you could stay with me."

"I'm a big girl, Stanny. I can handle myself." She leaned over and playfully punched his shoulder.

"S'not safe out here, s'all."

"What's that mean?"

"Nasty things happen out in them canyons." He frowned. "Look, forget I said anything. Just be careful." He opened the door and got in the driver's seat.

"Will do. If I don't show up by noon tomorrow, send someone out to look for me." _Preferably Mac. _

"Sleep tight." He tried to sound optimistic. He twisted the key in the ignition and watched as she crossed the pavement before pulling away.

The brake lights were small red dots in the distance when Aberdeen made it to the door marked '5'. The key was in the lock when she realized she forgot her clothes and things in her car which was still at the garage. "Fuckin' hell." She muttered, removing the key and trudging across the lot again.

She finally made it to the Honda and popped the truck. The first thing to go were her shoes. She placed them in the trunk and rummaged for her duffel bag. As she leaned into the trunk, a pair of strong, rough hands grasped her hips and something hard poked into the small of her back. Without thinking, she rolled her hips backwards into the hard bulge of the man's pants. She had hoped it was Mac. The sweltering between her thighs was telling her she needed hot, rough sex to help her forget, to heal from her rough breakup. Her captor groaned and his voice wasn't raspy and husky, nor did it drip of sex. It was firm and wasn't anyone she knew.

She spun in his hands to look at him. He was a tall, dark man with a full beard. He was a little heavy set. She imagined her was handsome once, before he grew the beard and started doing drugs. She noted the scars along his bare arms and neck. The primal aggression and look of his teeth told her that he and Mac shared similar interests – her included. He pushed her ass down, into the trunk of her own car. "Been watchin' you for awhile now, girl. Pretty young thing. Out here all alone?"

"Get the fuck away from me!" She squealed, kicking at him with the thick heels of her Martens. He caught her foot and laughed at her fowled attempt. He drew her foot closer and kissed her bare ankle, trailing his hands down the expanse of her bare legs and into her inner thighs. She slapped his hand and he released her legs enough for her to kick him in the nose, hard.

"Fuckin' cunt!" He growled, grabbing the now broken nose.

Will was late. Mac hated to be left waiting. He was about to go looking for that big, dumb lumberjack when he heard the ruckus from the side of the garage. He heard her voice crying out and his blood boiled. He jumped from his truck and slammed the door behind him.

Aberdeen jumped out of the trunk as the man groaned in pain, leaning in half and holding his nose. In her drunken haze, she didn't think, she just ran. She crossed the corner of the garage and spotted a large pile of debris; old car parts and discarded materials. She heard him close behind her so she jetted towards the pile. Strong fingers grasped her ankle and pulled her backwards. She fell flat on her face. She rolled over onto her back quickly to face her aggressor. "Fuckin' cock tease! Dressin' like that and then gettin' all defensive when somebody takes ye up on the offer. I'll show ye." He grasped the fly of his jeans and tugged the zipper down.

This was about to happen. She was powerless to stop it.

Mac quickly and quietly slipped around the backside of the garage, trying to get the one-up on whoever was terrorizing his new girl. She didn't know it yet, but soon enough, she would be his. No one touches Mac's things. He made it to the back corner of the building where they threw the old car skeletons when he finally spotted her. She was whimpering and that fucking tweaker, Will, was leaning over her, his jeans around his knees and his dick flopping in the wind. She was putting up a good fight as he tried to rip off her clothes. Mac pulled his hunting knife out, clutching it tightly in his right hand when he stopped.

Nothing she was doing was working. She twisted from his grip. She had tried to kick and punch her way free. He was just too strong. He had at least 100 pounds on her, easily. His hand slipped into the open fly of her jean shorts and grazed her wet panties. The man smirked to himself and pushed her panties aside, skimming the length of her slit, finding her soaking wet. His thick digit circled her clit and he laughed out loud to himself when he felt the hard metal barbell there. "Yeah, you love this kinda shit, girl, don't ye?"

His finger dipped into her and she panicked. She rolled her head back, looking for anything she could find. Her bold blue eyes zeroed in on piece of a two by two, just within reach. She struggled away, backwards, but the man grabbed her hip, stationing her in place. She managed to grab the end of the board. Fueled by adrenaline and fear, she slammed the end of the lumber into the man's temple.

She had meant to stun him, maybe knock him unconscious. She didn't even notice the nails in the end of the board until they punctured the man's temple. Blood poured from his mouth, his eyes, the side of his head. It felt like eternity as she stared into his dead eyes and watched the life leave his body. He tumbled forward his blood spilled along her bare stomach and soaked the white fabric of her tee shirt. His weight knocked the wind out of her and she struggled to get free, wriggling and screaming in the process.

Mac had never seen anything so erotic in his life. Admittedly, he had been hard since he heard her scream, but sex took a backseat to his other ideas when he registered she wasn't screaming because of him. He never imagined walking up on her and seeing her murder one of his least favorite people in cold blood. He was overwhelmed with feelings of admiration and desperation. He watched her wiggle her way out from underneath Will's lifeless body and he groaned in frustration. He ran back to his truck and decided to play it cool.

She slowly made her way back to her car. Sure, she was drunk and in shock, but the rational side of her brain was fighting the alcohol to temporarily sober her into reality. She needed to get rid of the body and her bloody clothes and quickly. She had a few good hours before sunrise. She had to make them count.

The bright flood lights stunned her. She froze in place, completely terrified until the truck pulled up alongside her and she spotted the man in the front seat. "The hell happened to you, sweetheart?" Mac's husky, dark voice calmed her.

"Long story." She managed, the words barely audible.

He looked over her shoulder, his flood lights blaring on the dead body, still collapsed in a heap on the ground and in the open. "I see." He smirked, running his finger over his gums and opening the door of his truck. He ran his finger through the wet, warm blood covering her bare mid-drift and slipped his fingers into the open fly of her tight shorts, buttoning them and fixing the zipper for her. "Get in the truck."

"What are you-"

He silenced her with an overbearing kiss, claiming her mouth for his own and overwhelming her senses. "Get in the fuckin' truck." He growled.

She obeyed, despite herself. She watched as Mac drug the body to the bed of his truck and threw the corpse in with a little effort and a lot of force. He wrenched the the two by two from Will's skull and threw it beside him in the truck bed. He silently crossed the distance between there and the driver's door and then climbed in the cabin. "We're gonna go fer a little ride."

* * *

The 'little ride' took two hours. Two hours of complete silence and awkward sexual tension. Aberdeen was managing to sober up and Mac was still buzzing from his hit before they embarked on this journey.

They hadn't been on an actual road for at least twenty minutes. Abruptly, the truck stopped, seemingly in the middle of no where. Mac cut the vehicle off and the two sat in silence for a good few minutes.

Aberdeen was the first to make a move. She crossed the bench seat and straddled Mac's hips, forcing her lips to his. He was quick to counteract, digging the pads of his fingers deep into the soft flesh of her hips. He pulled her down, grinding her into his massive erection, right where she needed release. "Clothes off." He ordered, already working on the fly of her jeans.

She leaned back and did away with her own top. It was ruined, along with her bra, she now noticed. She reached around her back and unclasped it, releasing her perky, full breasts to Mac's eyes. He growled and picked her up, tugging off her jeans. When they hit her knees, she maneuvered herself to get her jeans off the rest of the way and arched her ass as she came back to straddling him, hitting the horn on the steering wheel. She squealed as the noise cut the silence in the barren wasteland surrounding them and giggled when Mac grasped her hair and pulled her back to his hungry lips.

He wiggled a little, barely distracting her from the kiss until she felt the blade of his knife graze her hips and cut off the strings of her thong. She lifted only enough to release the ruined panties from underneath her and then rolled her hips into him, causing him to release a primal groan.

The hastiness of his actions sent surges of wetness to the apex of her thighs and she longed for him to help her find release. As if reading her mind, her placed a hand on her throat, on the verge of choking her, her back arched into the steering wheel and he brought his lips to her breasts, circling his nipples with his tongue, then tugging with his ragged, decaying teeth.

The pain caused her to cry out. "Please…" She whimpered, rolling her hips into him. He ignored her actions and sent his attention to the blood covering her stomach and breasts, licking the drying crust off tentatively. His thumbs brushed the diamonds anchored in her hips, just along her hipbones.

She shuddered against his touch and rolled her hips into his crotch, desperately trying to relieve the pressure. He hissed as she ground herself against him and decided to give her what she wanted, grazing his fingers down her pelvis and ramming two of his thick digits inside her wet cavern. His thumb found her swollen clit and he smirked against her chest when he felt the stud there, as well. He tugged on the piercing and she gasped, rocking against his hand.

"Ye like that?" He growled. She braced herself on his strong shoulders, lifting and lowering herself onto his hand. "Ye like fuckin' my hand, huh?"

"Rather it be something else." She purred. She leaned in and bit his neck, tasting salt and dirt. She started snapping the buttons on his coveralls, making her way all the way down his chest, all the while his thumb rubbed furiously over her quivering center. She pushed the coveralls over his shoulders and he adjusted himself to let her. For the first time she was able to marvel at his body. He was wearing a dirty, ripped wife beater underneath, but she could still see his broad shoulders and muscular arms. They weren't body builder muscles, but those of a man who was forced to work for a living. Strong and capable of doing dirty work. Her fingers grazed over his pecks before she wrapped them around the back of his head, lowering her mouth to his in a chaste kiss. His mouth captured her moans as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her tiny body. "Mmm, fuck!" She moaned out as the contractions slowed down to dull thumps.

He pulled his hands from her and lifted himself up enough to undo the rest of the buttons on his coveralls, now obviously in the way. He reached into the crotch of the material and undid his worn jeans, unleashing his impressive length that had been aching to be set free this entire time.

Without hesitation, Mac gripped her hips firmly, his right hand settling on a cluster of ribbons and pearls that draped across her ribcage and rolled down her hip and lower back. The ink there only accentuated her femininity and the beautiful shape of her body. He thrust himself deep inside of her. She cried out at the intrusion, but quickly adjusted to the new sensations his girth and length provided. "God damn." She muttered, letting her head roll back as she gripped onto his biceps for leverage, grinding her hips into his.

His fingers twisted in her long waves and pulled her tiny frame forward into his chest. His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered, "God ain't here." His teeth bit into the soft flesh of her earlobe and she cried out, grabbing at his face and desperately locking her lips to his. Her teeth locked onto his lower lip and she pulled back, their eyes locking and burning with lust.

He brought his large hands back to her hips and pulled her down, hard and fast, as he brought his own hips up to meet them. The sensation pounded into her and she made the most beautiful sound Mac ever heard. It was something between a cry of pain and a moan. "Fucking harder!"

Mac froze for a moment, watching her face contort. _Harder?_ No one ever said that to him, ever. Bitch like it rough, he could give her rough! He mimicked the motion, then brought his fingers back to that barbell in her clit and tugged as she bucked her hips. "Ye like that? Filthy fuckin' slut."

"Oh, yeah." She choked the words out. She was nearing another powerful orgasm and her mind was beginning to fog.

Mac continued to work her clit as she ground her hips along his throbbing cock. He brought his other hand around and slapped her bare ass. She jutted forward, increasing their pressure with the new angle. "Fuck. Again!" She urged. He dug his fingers into her ass cheek, pulling the ripe, round globes apart and pulling her body down onto her.

"Fuckin' take it." He growled, smacking her ass again. That was the only push she needed. She started quaking around him, crying out. Her hands kneaded her breast and tweaked her own nipples as she rode out her pleasure. The spasming of her clenching pussy was too much for Mac and he came, fast and hard, spurting hot shots of cum deep inside of her and growling like a wild animal.

She ground herself into him a few more times, coming down slowly from her new found high, before she spun around and collapsed naked beside him on the bench seat in his tiny truck. "That is how a real man fucks." She sighed, completely sated and spent.

Mac chuckled to himself. "You're making me fuckin' love you." He smirked, taking his wet fingers into his mouth and licking off her hot juices.

They sat their for a moment, catching their breath before Mac threw open the door of his truck and climbed out, tucking his softening cock back into his pants. He tugged off his coveralls and handed them to Aberdeen. "Put this on." She gave him a questioning look. "Yer clothes gotta go." He explained. She nodded and scooted across the seat, exiting through his open door.

He couldn't help but gape at her luscious body, now fully exposed to him, even in the dark of the night. He watched, mesmerized as she bent before him, lifting her feet into the legs of the coveralls. He could see his semen dripping down her thighs, her pussy lips glistening in the moon light. She was totally his.

She got the coveralls to his waist and bent back into a straight stance. She spun to face him as she worked her arms into the upper half of the garment and caught him staring. "What?"

At that moment, all he wanted was to wrap her legs around his neck and lick her clean until she was coming in his mouth. He shook the thought from his head. They came out here for a reason. "Wait here." He commanded.

He walked back to the bed of the truck and let the tail gate down, dragging the heavy corpse to the ground. He tugged the body through the brush and red clay until he neared a dip in the ground that Aberdeen hadn't noticed until that moment. The truck was only a yard or so away. Mac put his steel-toed boot on the man's back and kicked, pushing the body until it tipped over the edge and fell into the hole. Aberdeen's curiosity got the best of her and she walked over to the edge and watched the man's lifeless body disappear. "Sinkhole." Mac muttered. "Get yer clothes."

She grabbed her discarded clothing from the bench and floor of the truck and brought them to Mac. He tied the clothes to the end of the wooden board, still dripping with the dead man's blood. He knelt down and pushed the body in further with the end of the piece of jagged lumber, then dropped the weapon in after the body. Everything disappeared before their eyes into the depths of the earth beneath them.

"No one fuck's with what's Mac's." He muttered, then sauntered back to his truck and started it up.

Aberdeen watched as the last bits of evidence sank into the sand. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

**Google Translate says that 'luna mesa' translates to 'moon table', but that doesn't really make sense in context, so I asked my mom, who speaks fluent Spanish, what it could mean and she said it roughly translates to 'place like the moon'. I don't know how right that is. **

**Any reviews, ideas, or feedback are greatly appreciated! **


	2. Part 2

**Here goes the second part of my prompt from the wonderful Alva Starr. **

**Prompt Summary(for this chapter): **

_Female OC fights with sorority girls at the Luna Mesa. Mac is in the background, watching the whole scene. He abducts the girls and the OC. She's confused but he wants her to see him torture and eventually kill the other girls and have them watch while he and the OC have sex._

**I decided to add a little twist to that – jealousy. I wanted to see what Mac would be like if he were jealous. Also, I've never written voyeurism into my smut before, so I'm not sure how this worked. I hope it doesn't disappoint! **

**I read macsgirls tumblr page 'confessions' over and over for inspiration and the murder and stuff is just my sickly mind. I hope it comes across as good as I saw it in my head. **

**I'm seriously so overwhelmed by the response to the last part. I got really good feedback from it to the point where I'm actually embarrassed of all of the things I've written before. **

**I definitely wanted to thank everyone for their reviews and encouragement. Annabeth, you are amazing! **

**tiannajanes, pharmtechgrl71, Carmen, and Forever Fanfiction Lover22: **Thanks so much, I hope it was worth the wait.

**Also, props to Clarissa who honored me with a shout out on macsgirls tumblr page. So glad you enjoyed and thank you for the rave! Macs Girls are the best!**

**PrincessPipi: **Thanks, I really appreciate it!I actually have seen Sunlight Jr. I downloaded iTunes (despite my hatred for anything Apple) and paid $9.99 for it. I was kind of disappointed that Norman was barely in the film, but I really liked it! Before your review, I had actually worked some of his quotes into this chapter because I fangirled so hard when he spoke. I would totally consider writing a Justin story or a one-shot or something. Would anyone else read that?

**And, of course, thanks to Alva for the idea and for her in depth reviews and critiques. Here's hoping part two is worthy. **

**Reviews and alerts are greatly appreciated! This chapter is definitely a beast and it will make me feel accomplished to get some good feedback.**

**As with all of my Mac fics, this isn't for the faint of heart. This chapter contains mutilation, murder, foul language, graphic sex, and general Mac-ness. You have been warned. **

* * *

There was a definite pounding in Aberdeen's head when she arose the next day. She found herself back in her shitty motel room. It took a few moments to realize the pounding wasn't just coming from her intense migraine.

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming!" She grumbled, tumbling out of bed, catching herself on the bedside table. She straightened herself and checked the peephole in the door before unchaining the locks.

"Fucking shit." She swore under her breath. She hadn't changed or bathed since last night. She could have just written last night off as a bad dream, but she was sore, and not just from her killer hangover. Her whole body ached. She was still just wearing Mac's dingy coveralls, the ones with his name monogrammed on the left breast pocket. They were at least three sizes too big and covered in blood and dirt.

"Open the God damn door!" A deep voice shouted, still slamming on the outside.

"I'm not decent!" She lied, wondering how quickly she could change.

"What else is new?" Stanley laughed.

She bit her lower lip and started running stories through her head; lies she could tell her cousin about her appearance. Everything sounded stupid. She groaned, exasperated by the situation she had undoubtedly created for herself before undoing the chains and the padlock, opening the door.

Stan burst through the door and stopped in his tracks, getting a good, hard look at her. "Jesus Christ, Abby. What the fuck did you do?"

"I'm not sure what you want me to say." She stumbled to the table in the room and dug through her bag, finding some Percocets and dry swallowing one. She fell back on the bed, hoping the pain would subside soon.

"Did he – Did Mac hurt you?" He asked, taking note of her apparel.

"No..." She sighed. "He - nothing happened. It's just - I don't want to talk about it."

"Shit, are you bleeding?" He gasped, noting the dark red stains on the coveralls.

"Fuck!" She groaned, trying to remember vivid details of last night. "I don't think so."

"Then whose is it?" He growled.

"Shit, Stan. I barely remember my own name, let alone last night. I'm fine. I'm alive and kicking."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, you're late for work. Mac left early to go look for Will and we're way behind. I was hoping you could come give me a hand?"

"Who's Will?"

"He drives the tow truck. Kind of a big lumberjack guy. Not exactly bright." Aberdeen gulped down a chunk of fear mixed with bile. "We found the truck in the parking lot this morning, but no sign of Will."

"Oh." She whimpered, putting two and two together in her own mind.

"It's prolly nothin'. He goes on benders all the time. He's into some heavy shit."

"Crank, you mean?"

His eyes widened. "What do you know about that?"

"I'm not stupid, Stan. I know the warning signs. Seems like most of the towns on the shit."

"Look, you should clean yourself up. I'll see you in a bit?"

"Yeah. See you." She sighed, sitting up slowly as he closed the door behind him.

She felt disgusting. First thing was first, she needed a shower. She slipped the coveralls down her shoulders and threw them in the trash before crossing into the motel bathroom.

Dried blood smattered her battered body. She looked like a wreck. Her hair was tangled in dark, auburn knots and her eyeliner and mascara were bleeding down her cheeks, staining them is faint veining patterns. Her lips were swollen and her lower lip was busted. She hadn't even noticed.

She examined her body. Finger-print sized bruises covered almost all of the exposed, white flesh on her stomach, arms, and thighs. Upon closer inspection, her shoulder, the one with the intricate red roses across its expanse, was scrapped and scabbed. The dark red blood, long dried, was blending into the ink. She wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't felt the sting of exposure. There was a pronounced hickey on her collarbone, no doubt from Mac's "love bites."

Her thighs clung together, dried semen and blood acting as glue. She was still wet, feeling wonderfully abused.

The hot water of the shower was cleansing. It soothed her aching muscles and made her feel whole again. She had almost forgotten last night.

Almost.

The Percocet seemed to be taking full effect by the time she got out of the shower. She wrapped herself in a ripped motel towel and slipped into the bedroom again, digging through the duffel that contained her clothes. She couldn't remember how the bag made it to her room, but then again, there were a lot of things she couldn't remember from last night.

She chose a distressed black shirt with a skeleton cut out of the back. Her leopard print push up bra was visible through the warn, soft fabric. She chose matching French cuts and a pair of ripped daisy dukes to help her beat the sweltering heat.

All her bruises and marks were on display. Besides, Aberdeen Strickland wasn't one to hide.

She fixed her makeup but didn't bother with her hair. When it air dried, it twisted into curled tendrils that fell in soft waves down her shoulders.

"Good enough." She muttered, checking her reflection one last time before she grabbed her purse and locked her motel room door. She crossed the parking lot to the garage and found Stan under an old F150, draining fluid from beneath the old beater.

"Still need a hand?" She smirked.

"Decided to wait on Mac." He muttered, rolling himself out from under the truck. "Jesus. Are you sure you don't wanna talk about it?" He frowned, noting the faint bruises. "I could cover for you if you wanna leave."

"I'm fine." She shrugged, throwing down her bag and going through the stuff from her trunk. She grabbed her spray gun and sat cross-legged on the floor of the garage, going through gallons of paint that Stan had pulled out from storage.

"Got out all the blue we had."

"I'll make something work." She muttered. "You can relax."

"You and Mac, huh?" His face embodied concern and anger.

"It sort of just happened." She winced, biting the cut on her lip out of habit.

"You need to be careful, okay. Mac's my boss an' all, but he's not exactly all there."

"He seemed fine to me. Hell, he was better than fine." She smirked.

"You're a stubborn little bitch, you know that?"

"Thanks, cuz. Love you, too." She sighed, distracted from her work. "Look, he did me a favor last night. I can't get into the details, but I owe him."

"Is this some gross sex fantasy?" He winced.

"No! God, you perve!" She threw a paint splattered rag in his general direction and set to work mixing paint

* * *

Aberdeen was fully involved with her painting, head phones blaring Motorhead's 'In the Year of the Wolf' in her ears when a set of strong hands wrapped around her mid section and teeth grazed her neck, grabbing the strand of her ear bud and tugging it out of her ear. "Office. Now." Mac growled. He sauntered to the office door and waited there with it opened.

She spun around, stunned, looking for Stanley. He was no where to be found. She pulled her iPod out of her pocket and laid it beside her sprayer on the ground by the half painted Viper. She tugged the arms of her coveralls tighter around her middle and followed orders. Mac shut the office door behind her and didn't waste time cornering her against the desk.

"Where have you been?" She asked awkwardly, trying to ease the sexual tension.

"Ye killed my only driver. Had ta go pick up an Impala this mornin'." He said it so rationally and upfront it caused her to shake. She looked away, visibly embarrassed. "Whatchu did... I ain't never..." He leaned into her throat and grazed his teeth against her over sensitized flesh. "I wanna see ye do it a'gin." His thumbs stroked her dermal anchors through the layers of fabric. She silenced a moan as he backed her up onto the desk.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." She managed, falling back onto her arms as her thighs wrapped around his. "Last night, it wasn't just a one-night thing?"

"Ain't lettin' ye go that easy." He growled, undoing his jeans. "Yer mine."

"Hey, Mac!" Stan hollered, close outside the office door.

"Fuckin' hell." Mac growled. "What!?"

"Walter wants you. Said it's urgent."

"Fuckin' old man." He muttered. He pulled himself from Aberdeen's thighs and zipped the fly of his jeans again. "Git the car done. I'll be back." He growled, slamming the office door in his wake.

She exited the office and Stan gave her a knowing look. "I have to go help Mac with this... thing. Finish up here. If we aren't back by five, lock up. I'll check on you at the Luna Mesa when we get back."

"I can manage on my own just fine."

"I know... I feel responsible, though. I brought you out here."

"Thanks for that, by the way." She scoffed, putting her ear buds back in and turning up the volume.

* * *

The first coat of paint was finished and drying by the time the sun was setting. Aberdeen decided to call it a night and retreat to the Luna Mesa to wait on Stanley.

She took off the coveralls and locked the garage like she was told. She crossed the lot to the shithole bar across the way. Walter recognized her and poured her a shot of Jameson like he had the night before. She downed the shot before even sitting down. "Another." She choked out through the sting of the warming amber liquid.

"Rough night?" Walter gave her a knowing look, one that shook her to her core.

"Not yet it isn't." She countered, trying to keep her cool.

"Looks like you haven't exactly taken to the canyons yet, girl." He raised his brow, pouring her another shot.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the glass. "Keep them coming, por favor." She carried the shot to a booth by the window and decided to nurse herself there instead of with the Mexican behind the counter.

She heard the incessant giggling and general girlish annoyance from the ragged front porch of the country bar. The bat wing door swung open to reveal a few college kids. Lord knows why they were wandering the desert, but they must have stopped for libations. There three girls; one skinny blonde bimbo, one tall skinny brunette, and a dark African goddess. They were accompanied by two Ken-type boys; each one tall and muscled, clean and all-American. One was blonde with chiseled features and the other dark as night, but equally attractive.

Aberdeen couldn't help but stare as they walked in like they owned the place. They sat down at the booth in front of hers and the brunette hollered at Walter to hurry and take their orders. It was still early and the bar was empty, save for Aberdeen and the few old men that sat in the corner, appearing as though they haven't moved since yesterday.

The blonde guy's eyes locked on Abby's and she flushed and looked back out the window once he gave her a flawless, white smile. A few rounds later, the girls decided to play with the juke box, turning it to Joan Jett and pretending to know the words as they lip-synched in the bar.

To say that Aberdeen wasn't enjoying this little karaoke night was an understatement. She snuck outside to the porch with her refilled glass and watched the empty parking lot under the cast of the full, yellow moon. Coyotes howled in the distance as she toed her Martens against a loose floor board.

"Couldn't stand it either, huh?" A deep voice chuckled. She turned to face the tall blonde. He casually leaned onto the railing and smiled at her. "Name's Xander."

"Strickland." She said, still weary of his presence.

"So, you from around here, _Strickland_?"

"No. God no. I'm here on business."

"The only kind of business they do out here is cousin fucking and moon shining." He laughed.

"What about you, then? Why are you here?" She asked with a girly giggle.

"Just passing through." He smirked.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriends inside?"

"None of those girls are my concern. I used to date Brianna, the blonde, but we have since parted ways. Besides, Jamal has them occupied with 'Hot Child in the City.'" He placed his hand on the curve of her hip and leaned into her more.

"Either way, don't you think they'll be missing you?" As she spoke, flood lights appeared in the parking lot, gleaming on the porch and practically blinding Aberdeen and Xander.

The vehicle shut off. The lights were coming from a familiar red pickup. Mac and Stan climbed out of the truck and Aberdeen blushed at the sudden memory of her and Mac in that truck last night. She felt a warm tingle in her groin as Stan climbed the stairs and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, Abs?"

"Yeah. We were just talking."

"How 'bout I take ye inside? Let Walt refill yer glass."

"Okay." She muttered, no longer looking at her cousin, but at the tiny blonde girl running across the lot and cornering Mac at the truck. She heard him growl something unintelligible and let the withered whore into his truck. She spun out of Stan's grasp to watch what happened but her cousin grabbed her and shoved her in the door.

"What the hell, Stan?"

"Yer gonna get that boy killed, you keep that up!" He hissed under his breath, leading her by placing his hand on her lower back and ushering her to her booth from earlier.

"What do you -"

"Mac is pissed as it is. Yer askin' for trouble, Abby."

Mac shoved open the door and glared at Aberdeen. The tiny little blonde, obviously a whore and more obviously strung out, was close behind, clinging to his dingy wife beater. He grabbed a bottle of Jack from behind the counter and pushed the tiny woman behind him into the corner table. "Sit."

Aberdeen whipped around and leaned into the table as Stan sat down. "You can't tell me what to do." She mumbled as Xander walked back into the bar. She strode away from the booth, avoiding Stan's calls and clambering hands and grabbed Xander, dragging him by the loop of his jeans to the small opening in the floor. She changed the song on the juke box to a slow country ballad, much to the dismay of the drunken college girls, now glaring at her.

"Who's that guy?" Xander asked cautiously, though he was playing along. He placed his hands on her round hips and leaned into her ear to speak.

"Stan? He's just my cousin."

"Your cousin, huh?" He scoffed, alluding to their previous conversation.

"It's not like that!" She insisted, playfully punching his arm before laying her head on his chest and swaying with the music.

"What about creepy in the corner? He's your cousin, too?"

"Don't worry about him. He's nothing to me."

She felt all eyes on her. The college girls whispered and giggled behind her back, but all she could think about was revenge. Mac had used her and made her think she was special in such a vulnerable moment, then found the first dried up old whore he could when he was threw. She watched the blonde skank hang all over Mac as he glared at Abby, sipping Kentucky bourbon and plotting revenge of his own.

The song came to an end and Xander decided to lean in for a quick kiss. His lips barely touched Aberdeen's nose when the blonde, Brianna, grabbed her long auburn hair and tugged back, roughly. "Fucking slut!" She squealed. "Get off of him!"

"Brianna? What the hell!?" Xander yelled.

Aberdeen flew backwards but righted herself quickly enough to stay upright. Without thinking, she swung backwards and her fist connected with Brianna's jaw. Obviously stunned, Brianna clutched her face and screamed, "You bitch!"

The other two girls circled Aberdeen, making her feel cornered.

"Abby... we should go." Stan muttered, making his way to the center of the action. He grabbed her clenched fist and tugged her back. She allowed him to pull her towards the door.

"Dirty fucking slut! You better fucking run!"

Aberdeen turned to glare at the brunette, now addressing her. "Why don't you come outside and say that?"

The black guy, Jamal, grabbed the brunette and held her back as Stan pushed his cousin out the door. "What the hell are you thinkin'?"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? That bitch attacked me! She and her friends have been giggling and gossiping about me all night! You want me to pretend I don't have feelings or some shit?"

"No, but I mean you have to admit -"

"What, Stan? I have to admit what, exactly? Don't you fucking say you agree with them! Don't fucking say it!"

"Abby, you let Mac do God knows what to you last night and then come in here and throw yourself at a complete stranger? I know your emotional and shit, but what the fuck do you expect people to say?"

"I expect my fucking family to defend me!" She spat, staggering down the stairs. "What about Mac back there, huh? Who is that bitch that's all over him?"

"Crystal? This is about Crystal?"

She turned away and staggered back to the motel. "No, this isn't about anything, Stan!" She called over her shoulder. "I'm going to my room. If I don't show up tomorrow, don't fucking look for me."

* * *

Mac thought he was aroused from Aberdeen's show of dominance last night, killing Will in cold blood. He never imagined being so turned on from a cat fight, but this cat fight was over him.

Aberdeen was jealous. He wasn't stupid. He read her face from the moment Crystal came running over to him for a quick fix.

Crystal was the town whore. She often occupied the motel, waiting on prospective customer's to flock in. Truth is, she let herself go long ago when she got addicted to the meth. She usually paid Mac in cheap blowjobs, letting him smack her around for a bit.

Mac wasn't feeling that tonight. Crystal no longer excited him. In fact, all the usual whores were never going to cut it for him again. Since he saw Aberdeen flirting with that college boy jock, he wanted to punish her and only her. That started by making her jealous.

He traded Crystal an ounce for her help. He was being more than generous.

His dick strained in his worn jeans, digging into his zipper in a painful, punishing way. Aberdeen was creating a show. There was no way she was into him. She just wanted to get a rise out of him. _Little bitch doesn't know what she's askin' for._

* * *

Cold rough hands clamped over Aberdeen's mouth, muffling her abrupt scream. Another hand clamped around her throat and drug her from her restful sleep, wrenching her from bad and out the door.

The desert chill shocked her body. She only wore her oversized skull cut-out shirt and her French cut panties to bed, not bothering to shower or change. She couldn't see her assailant, but recognized his beat up red truck, left running in the parking lot.

He opened the passenger door and threw her in, slamming the door before she could speak. He crossed to the other side of the truck and got in, locking the doors and putting the vehicle in first gear.

"What the fuck, Mac?"

"Got somethin' ta show ye."

"No! No! What was that back there?"

"What? You an' yer little college boy toy wasn't s'pose'ta piss me off?" He chuckled, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the inner console and taking a swig.

"And what if it did? What about _Crystal_?" She spat.

"Crystal? She's hot. Makes me dinner every night. Sucks my dick. _Real_ good." He snickered as her face contorted, seething jealousy.

She punched the glove compartment and reached for the handle on the door, trying to unlock it. "Let me out of this fucking car! God damn it, Mac!" In her fit of anger, she lost control and started to cry.

"Ye'll be lost out there, sweetheart." He mused, offering her the Jack. "'Sides, got a surprise fer ye."

She took the bottle and tipped it back, chugging a good amount before she chucked the bottle at his head. He slammed on the break and swerved the truck off the road, fishtailing his way through the dust and off-roading to the cave. He slammed into park at the fence and reached over Aberdeen's lap, pushing the door open and shoving her out into the dirt.

Before she could crawl away, he rounded his vehicle and grabbed her wrists, pulling her to her feet and grabbing her at the knees, throwing her kicking and screaming over his strong, broad shoulder.

All she could see were the ripped ends of his jeans, his dusty steel-toed boots, and smatterings of blood in the dragging marks leading to the cavern that only made her screams more shrill. She started punching his back. He didn't let up, leading her into the dark. They kept walking until she caught a glimpse of dim light in the hollow area before them. Mac tossed her to the ground and she landed with a thud on her ass by a hollow steel drum. Her head fell back against the object and she gasped as she took in her surroundings.

Against a sheet of plastic, clinging to the wall, hung three familiar bodies; the girls from the bar. They were visibly nailed to the rocky cavern, hands pinned above their heads and feet crossed at the ankles, nailed through the center. Blood poured down their mouths, soaking their shirts and dropping at their feet.

Under the pooling blood lay the men, Xander and Jamal. Xander was visibly breathing, though it was labored and sounded forced. His face was managed and his left eye was swollen shut. Jamal had the hilt of a knife sticking out of his temple.

"Mac…" She whimpered, stunned into place.

"Brought 'em fer ye."

"Are they -"

"Naw. Thought ye'd do the honors." She shivered as she remembered his words from earlier: _I wanna see ye do it a'gin._

"Can't back sass ye no more. Ain't got tongues." He smirked. He grabbed his knife, jerking it out of Jamal's skull and pulled out his own tongue, motioning as if cutting it out, mocking what he had already done to the girls.

They were woozy, losing blood fast, if they haven't choked to death already. Mac kicked Xander, knocking him over and the blonde groaned, slumping to the side. "Left this one fer ye. He's gon' watch." Mac smirked, laughing to Aberdeen.

"Watch?" Aberdeen backed away on her hands as Mac walked over to her. He leaned over and snaked his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her complaints and screams. She suddenly understood what he meant. She looked over at the poor teens, slowly dying in front of her. She dug her thumb into Mac's throat, pushing him off. "They can't watch with their eyes closed." She purred.

He groaned, but broke contact with her. He walked over and propped up the pretty boy. With Mac being preoccupied, Aberdeen decided to take her chances. She jumped up and made a run for the cavern door.

She underestimated Mac's speed and determination. He leapt forward and tackled her, dragging her back by her ankles. He sat her down on the steel drum, kicking her legs apart. He ground his prominent bulge into the crotch of her panties and pulled back her hair, holding her still and tipping her back. She clutched his arms tight and whimpered, despite herself. "Like it when ye fight."

He lips urged hers on, forceful and angry. She pushed him back and slapped him, hard. He chuckled and gave her a harsh glare. He took his free hand and forced her panties to the side, slipping down to his knees. Before she could move, he was slipping that skilled tongue into her wet folds. She wiggled back, but groaned, allowing pleasure to take over.

She clutched his hair, pulling him forward. He gripped her hips, one of his hands settling on her thigh with the large cameo scarred into her pale flesh, the other wrapped along her hip bone, still holding the crotch of her damp panties out of his way. He chuckled at her reaction, sending surges of vibrating pleasure though her.

He looked over at Xander, now looking away, awkward and ashamed of how he felt. Mac spotted the telltale hard on forming a tent in the prep boy's pants and chuckled again.

Aberdeen gripped his hair more tightly and bucked her hips forward, struggling to keep her balance with no back support while still trying to focus on Mac's oral pleasure.

Mac decided to turn things up a notch. He stopped swirling circle eights around her swollen clit and slipped his wriggling tongue into her tight little cunt, raking his teeth over her the barbell through her most sensitive spot as he dug inside of her, desperately trying to find that tight, spongey spot inside her walls.

He was intoxicated by the smell of her, the sweet taste of her, the feel of her surrounding him. He loved it. The reaction he was getting told him she loved it too.

He ground his tongue, lapping at the upper wall of her clenching pussy and grinding his teeth against the engorged bud at the apex of her thighs, his teeth catching on the piercing and tugging her clit. She made a sweet, pleading moan and her whole body tightened. Her hips jerked upwards and her thighs clenched his cheeks, locking him in place as she came apart. "Fuck!" She sighed as her muscles relaxed.

Mac jumped up and back handed Xander. "What's the matter, faggot? Ye don' like seein' pussy gettin' fucked hard?" Xander coughed up blood and a small white pearl; his tooth. "I'mm show ye how a real man does it!" Mac growled.

Aberdeen barely had time to recover from her rough orgasm before Mac forced her to her stomach, pressing her against the steel drum. Mac's thumbs hooked in the sides of her panties and tugged them down. Abby stepped out of them without question and Mac took the wet fabric and threw it at Xander, hitting him in the nose before the panties rolled down to his chest. They guy jumped, visibly shaken and torn.

Without moving, Mac worked his jeans down, just enough to release his throbbing erection. He wrapped Aberdeen's hair around his wrist and smacked her bruised ass cheek hard. She cried out at the stinging pleasure of it all and fell forward, bending completely in half over the drum. He brought his hand down one more sharp time as he plunged himself deep inside of her.

She gripped onto the top of the drum, desperately trying to find purchase, as he pounded into her. This was no longer an act of passion, but of desperate need and domination. Mac was claiming her and she was letting him.

Mac finally released her hair, grabbing her hips with both hands and rubbing those hip piercings he was so preoccupied with. Without that extra support of Mac pulling her hair, Aberdeen slumped forward and the drum fell to it's side with Mac's next powerful thrust.

Aberdeen fell forward, Mac following her down, coming to his knees behind her. He fixed her nimble body, bending her knees and bringing them beside his thighs. "Spread 'em wide fer Ol' Mac." He plunged back inside of her, gripping her tiny, rounded hips and using them for leverage, pulling her back onto him again and again.

With every deep thrust, the drum rolled under Abby's stomach, kneading into her and making Mac's job more straining. Her knees dug into the pebbles and dirt. She felt them skin as she was being abused. She found her nipples through the sheer fabric of her shirt and pulled, swirling around them with her fingers and ravishing the feeling of Mac fucking her senseless.

"She's fuckin' tight." Mac growled. She realized he wasn't talking to her. She looked over at Xander. His hand was pressed into the bulge in his groin, trying to hide it. His eyes were shut, but he was conscious. He could hear everything. "Feels so God damn good."

Aberdeen's eyes wandered upwards. The girls hanging there were mostly still. Only Brianna seemed to be breathing. She caught the tears rolling down her pained face as her whole body slumped forward, putting unnecessary pressure on her arms. She imagined the other two died of blood loss within the last two minutes.

"Aberdeen." Mac husked. She mumbled something incoherently. "What a nasty fuckin' bitch!" He rasped. "I could spend hours 'tween these legs. Fuck 'er hard 'til she can't walk."

Aberdeen visibly squirmed. She reached between her legs, grabbing desperately for her clit. Mac only smacked her hand away. "Nope. Y'ain't cumin' 'til ye tell me how much ye like it." He laughed.

She groaned behind her and grabbed the flaps on either side of his jeans, feeling the zipper dig into her palms as her grip tightened and she pulled him closer. Mac let go of her hips and gripped her throat easily in one large fist, cutting off her air and pulling her back flush against his hard, firm chest. "Say it." He growled through gritted teeth. "Look at him an' say it." He turned her head to face Xander. "Tell him who ye belong ta."

"Mac." She sighed, finding it hard to form words. His free hand hooked around her hip and tugged her clit in two strong fingers. His other hand clenched her throat and pulled her back. His teeth bared down hand on her neck and she screamed, her tight muscles clenching around him as he thrust one last time.

Mac lost control and let go of her, falling back onto his legs and breathing hard. Once he let go, Aberdeen fell to her stomach, squirming as she rode the waves of complete ecstasy.

"Ye see that, boy?" Mac finally acknowledged Xander. He got to his feet and tucked his dwindling erection back into his jeans. "Ye hear what she said?" He kicked the boy where his jeans looked strained, eliciting shrill, ragged screams from the teen. He doubled over and writhed in the dirt. "She don' fuckin' want ye!"

"Please!" He coughed, spitting out blood and grabbing his stomach and groin. "I didn't do anything!"

"Thinkin' it was 'nuff." Mac growled.

He grabbed the boy's shirt and lifted him easily, flinging him into the wall and he collapsed on his dead friend. The shudders against the cave were enough to cause Brianna's limp body to fall into the pile the boys formed on the cavern floor. "Oh my God!" Xander choked.

Aberdeen stopped to watch Mac, fascinated with him movements. She sat up, cringing as she supported herself on her knees before pulling herself up. "C'mere, darlin'." Mac commanded, beckoning her forward. She found herself standing beside him as Mac slipped the hilt of his bloody knife into her hand. Xander pulled himself out of the dead pile, his movements no more than a pained crawl in his weak state. "End 'is sufferin'."

"Mac, I –"

"Please…" Xander pleaded, grabbing her ankle. She jumped back and Mac pushed her forward. She fell onto the blonde, chiseled body, screaming. The knife penetrated his stomach and he groaned, coughing more blood up, splattering it in her face.

"Yer makin' it worse, sweetheart."

She screamed and took out her frustrations, stabbing blindly at the man's chest until his sputtering and coughing stopped and he stiffened beneath her. She fell on his chest and began to cry.

Mac beamed as he watched her mental breakdown. "Tha's my girl."

* * *

**Why is it that, for some strange reason, this feels unfinished?**

**I like being told what to do, so leave me some suggestions to pour through. **


	3. Part 3

**There's no prompt for this one. I kind of struggled with the way this story should end. I know someone gets mad no matter which way I go with these Mac stories, but I didn't want to disappoint. **

**I will say that I cut this part in half, partially because I don't know how to make it end, and also because suspense is a bitch and this makes the most sense. THERE WILL BE AT LEAST ONE FOLLOW UP CHAPTER AFTER THIS ONE. **

**Thanks bunches to Annabeth and Alva Starr who let me vent about this story and talk it out with me. You girls are the best! **

**PrincessPipi:**I'm definitely thinking on it. I have a lot of things to finish first, but if I come up with any Sunlight Jr ideas, I'll certainly post it for you guys!

**You know the drill by now. If you aren't used to seeing this warning in your Mac fiction, you've been reading the wrong stuff. This story contains content of a graphic nature that includes adult language, drug and alcohol abuse, illicit sex acts, BDSM, murder, and mutilation. Not for those with weak stomachs or the faint of heart.**

* * *

It was late in the next afternoon when Stan began to worry. Mac hadn't showed up to work, nor had Aberdeen. He realized how mad his cousin must be and figured she was hiding in her motel room to spite him. Still, he needed Mac's help fixing that truck, and if he hadn't showed up to the garage today, Stan had a pretty good idea where to find him.

He came upon the cave and parked besides Mac's truck, smirking to himself as he did so. The winding tunnels to the cave were dark, but he knew them well enough to make his way through them without the aid of sight. He reached the cavern and found it to be dark as well. There was a light glow in the corner from the burning gas. He heard Mac shift slightly, though the sound was faint.

"Mac, what the hell? You were supposed to be at work today." He took a step forward and his foot came down on a hard lump in his path. "Can we cut on the fucking lamps?" He groaned. He reached over to one of the gas lamps he knew to be on the wall and lit it quickly enough. He took one step back and his breath hitched in his throat at what he saw. "Are these those college kids?"

"Prick's wandered out 'ere." Mac grumbled. He took a step from behind his work and tipped his gas mask up so he could be heard. "Couldn't avoid it."

"We can't afford any cops comin' out here again, man. We need to clean this up." He stepped over the male body draped across the floor and found another lantern, lighting it as well. He stepped over the mattress against the wall and recognized the shirt covering the chest and back of the women exposing her rear, now in full view against the harsh glow of the lanterns. "Abby." He whispered. "What the fuck did you do, Mac?"

"Lower yer fuckin' voice. She's alright." Mac growled, taking a swig of beer. "Want one?" He gestured to the glass bottle in his hand.

Stan sank down to his knees on the mattress and took in the sight that was his battered and beaten cousin. Blood was dried in drips down the length of her inner thighs, her knees were tattered and seemed to have no flesh to cover the exposed muscle there. What he could see of her face was bruised and tear strewn. Her hair was a tangled mess and her arms were elbow deep in dried blood. Welts from perfectly shaped hand prints were still imprinted in her right ass cheek.

"Abby?" He urged, a little more forcefully. He placed a hand on her shoulder and felt the scabs through the thin fabric of her shirt. He pushed and she stirred, murmuring a faint noise and rolling to one side, her back still to her cousin. Her eyes fluttered open in the dank light of the cave. She stared at her surroundings for a moment, then screamed and stirred, sitting upright abruptly and pulling her knees to her chest, retracting in on herself as memories of last night came surging through her cognizance. "Abby. I wanna get you out of here."

"She ain't goin' anywhere." Mac warned, putting down his bottle and walking forward, shoulders broad and stare angry.

"I'm taking her to the motel. She's gonna get herself cleaned up and I'm coming straight back. We need to get this mess taken care of." Stan stood to his full potential and countered, not backing down.

"Mac." Aberdeen whispered. "Please."

He growled, deep in his throat as his crystallized glare shifted to the expanse of her bloodied body. "The motel, then. I'll come by when we're done here."

"I'll see you later." She smiled faintly and winced as she tried to stand. She blushed as she remembered she was only wearing this oversized shirt and nothing else, holding her thighs together awkwardly in embarrassment.

Mac noticed her awkward appearance and realized the predicament she was in. Jealousy surged through his being and he quickly grabbed for a flannel shirt he kept in the cave. He knew it was irrational for him to be jealous of Stan seeing Aberdeen like this, but he couldn't help himself. She was his, for his eyes only. "Wear this." He grunted before he pulled his mask back down and got to work.

She looked puzzled for a moment, taken aback by Mac's sudden coldness. He took the flannel and tied the arms of the shirt around her thin waste, overlooking the sting of the sudden pressure on the bruises there, no doubt shaped like Mac's fingers.

Stan helped his cousin walk out to the waiting vehicles and helped her into the passenger seat of his truck. "You alright?" He asked, concerned with the amount of pain she was enduring.

"I'll make it. Been through worse shit than this." She sighed. Her cousin was concerned, but she knew she was more than capable of caring for herself.

He rounded the vehicle and hopped in the driver's seat. "I think it's time for you to leave. It's not safe for you here. It was a mistake thinking it was." He sat his hands on the steering wheel and slowly turned to meet her burning blue gaze.

"I haven't even finished the Viper, yet!" She yelled.

Stan put the key in the ignition and started his truck. "We can manage."

"No! I need the money. I'm so close to finishing!" She whined. "Not to mention, my reputation. I've never _not_ finished a car, Stan! Please!"

"You'll survive. I'll talk to Mac. Tell him something came up, we'll mail you a check."

"Stan." She bit her lip, taking a deep breath and planning her next words. "Stan, I can't go back to L.A."

"What are you talking about?"

"I just - I just wanna go rest. Can I do that? We can talk later."

"Yeah. I'll take you back to my place. I'll feel safer that way, Abs."

"Yeah." She bit her lower lip, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, that sounds good."

* * *

Most of Aberdeen's shower was spent crying in a heap on the floor of the tub with the water beating her senseless.

She had taken an extra Percocet and had fallen asleep wrapped in a towel on top of Stan's unmade bed. She didn't merely fall asleep; the strong medication prompted her to pass out. Even in her calmed state, she was periled with restless nightmares.

.:=:.

_Aberdeen took another Sweet Tart shot from the counter, tilting it back and downing it in one gulp. This one was green, unlike the first four, which were pink. _

"_Easy there, Strickland. I think you should slow down, now." Ashley warned with a chuckle. "That makes five in the past hour." _

"_What are you, my mom?" She stuttered. "Zach's gone to Salt Lake City for the weekend and I don't remember the last time I got to just hang out with the girls. Let me cut loose." _

"_I won't disagree on this one, just slow it down a little. I'd rather have fun with my friend and not have to scoop her up off the floor." Ashley laughed, sipping slowly from her plastic glass. "Where did Zach go, anyway?"_

"_Business meeting." Aberdeen slurred, swaying her hips slowly to the music in her drunken haze. _

"_Remind me to thank him, then. He never lets you out. I've begun to miss my best friend." _

_Ashley grabbed her friend's hand and drug her out to the center of the dance floor. Together they swung and swayed to the music, bumping and grinding their hips seductively in their drunken haze to unrecognizable rap and hip hop music, so loud in the club it was undistinguishable. _

_Aberdeen was having such a good time, she almost didn't notice Zach walk in with a classic blonde bimbo draped over his shoulders. Almost, if not for the alcohol surging through her system that was causing her to see nothing but red as they sat at a booth in the corner and snuggled into each other, sipping martini's and laughing maniacally. _

"_Ashley." She said, monotonously. She got her friend's attention and they both stared, wide-mouthed and doe-eyed at the pair. Ashley couldn't even stop her, Aberdeen was maneuvering between people, weaving in and out of the crowd easily until she came face to face with her target. _

"_Abby!" Zach chocked, jumping a foot away from the girl he was wrapped around and looking around, guilty. "Baby, what are you doing here?" _

"_I could ask you the same thing. What the fuck is this?" _

"_Excuse me?" The blonde finally spoke, sounding more shrill and sickening than Aberdeen could have ever imagined."Who is this bitch, Zach?"_

_"The fuck did you just call me?" Aberdeen screamed. Zach wedged himself between the two girls and held Aberdeen back. "This doesn't look like a business meeting!" She growled. _

"_Babe, it's not what it looks like! I promise! She is just a colleague!" He reached forward, grasping at her arm. _

"_Really? Do I look fucking stupid?" She spat, pulling herself from his reach and back-handing him hard. "Don't fucking touch me!" _

_Bouncers were alerted to the disturbance as Aberdeen and Zach caused a scene in the middle of the club. "Excuse me, we're gonna have to ask you to keep it down over here." _

"_Keep it down?" Aberdeen shouted. _

"_Sorry." Zach sighed. "Baby, let's just go home and talk about this." _

"_Like hell I will!" She squealed. _

"_Miss, I'm gonna have to escort you out." The bouncer said, sternly. He hooked his hand in her elbow and led her, kicking and screaming, outside of the club. Zach and the blonde were close behind. _

"_How dare you!" Aberdeen yelled. Ashley followed her out and found her friend thrashing in the arms of the bouncer and screaming curses. She took over where the bouncer left off and carried her friend to the car, screaming and thrashing her way through the parking lot. _

* * *

Sheriff Pratt entered the Luna Mesa with purpose. He stomped right up to Mac and Stan in the corner of the bar, cutting off their conversation with Walter mid-sentence.

"'Scuse me, boys. Stan, can I have a word?"

"Uh, sure thing Sheriff." He grunted, taking a step back from Walter and Mac's pensive blue stares and following the man of the law a mere few feet away from the counter.

"Stan, I've come to the understanding that you have a relative staying in town. A Miss Aberdeen Strickland?"

Mac's ears perked up at the mere mention of Aberdeen's name and let out a low, guttural growl, forgetting business ventures with his father to turn his attention to the Sheriff.

"S'right Sheriff. Is there a problem?"

"Well, Stan. I don't know how to tell you this, but it appears that Miss Strickland is wanted for questioning in Los Angeles County." Mac took a full step forward. Pratt gave him a weary glance, warning him. "I'm under the impression that she was staying at the Motel. Walter, I'd need to access the paper work for that room."

"Ye know I don't do paperwork, Pratt. Cash transactions only." Walter scoffed.

"Sheriff, sir. You mind tellin' me what this is all about?" Stan interjected.

"Well, son. Miss Strickland is wanted for questioning about a disappearance. It seems there was a murder this past week in Los Angeles, someone very close to Miss Strickland." Sheriff Pratt sighed, staring at Mac as he spoke. Mac growled and attempted to get in the Sheriff's face, threateningly. Stan put his hands on his partner's shoulders and held him back. Pratt pulled out a fax, wielding Aberdeen's license photo and her general information. "You understand, I can't ignore a notice like this. I'm gonna need to bring her in."

"If you know what's good fer ye, old man, ye best ferget ye ever saw her." Mac growled. Stan was no longer able to hold him back and Mac's square frame lumbered over the elderly man's round body. Protectively, Pratt placed his hand on the gun at his hip.

Walter pulled out his bat, warning his son, "Son, I don' think ye want ta be doin' that." Mac quickly grabbed his glass from the counter, cleaning it from any remnants of whiskey and throwing the glass to the floor, shattering it before he left the premises. "Now Pratt, I'm sure ye can find the girl in room number five." Walter instructed.

Stan looked to the old Mexican, trying to decipher his calculating gaze. Little did Walter know, Aberdeen was no where near the motel.

* * *

The old, beaten, red truck clunked to a stop by Stan's back door. Mac wasted little time yanked the doors out of his way and slipping into the trailer, no bigger than Mac's humble shack, which was only a mile or so out of the way.

Mac was quick and calculating as he made his way through the house. He was far from stupid. His father saw Aberdeen as a distraction. He wanted her gone. The charges against Aberdeen might be real, but it didn't matter. If Walter wanted to offer her protection, he could. He had the cops wrapped in his web of lies. They were on the pay roll and looked the other way when it came to the drugs, the string of 'disappearances' that all led back to Mac.

If he wanted to keep Aberdeen, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. He wasn't sure how long he had, but he knew he had to act quickly.

He found her whimpering, in a fitful sleep on the top of Stan's bed. The towel she had fallen asleep on had fallen open in her roused state and Mac could see every mouth watering inch of her bruised and battered body.

All the things he had put her through in the past two days, she handled it like a pro, accepting it and countering his offers. She was covered in his teeth marks, bruises in the shape of his own finger prints, her knees reduced to nothing but scabs from the brutal sex he had lashed out on her in a fit of jealous rage. He had marked this girl and she accepted it all willingly. He was completely in awe of her.

He found himself overwhelmingly turned on as she whimpered and screamed in her sleep, allowing herself some form of subconscious vulnerability. His erection strained against his torn jeans, pressing painfully into his zipper, but he ignored it, pressing a hand over his growing length to subside the pain long enough to clutch Aberdeen to his chest and carry her tenderly to the awaiting truck.


	4. Finale

**Happy Halloween, my lovlies! As a treat for you all, I decided to rush delivery for the finale! **

**It seems I lost everyone in the last part when there wasn't any porn. I deeply apologize to everyone and their ovaries for the lack of Mac smut. I perceive that was the problem and why I lost everyone's interest. **

**I promise, I pulled out all the stops for this final part. I tried my best to answer all of the questions and tie up any loose ends. I really wanted to do this story justice and go out with a bang (pun intended)! I **_**never**_** write happy endings, so I hope this doesn't offend. **

**Final thanks to everyone who read this and extra thanks to those who alerted and reviewed. It really means the world to me. This started out as a little pet project and turned into something so much better. **

**Also, special – super – mega thanks to Alva Starr who inspired this whole venture; this one is forever dedicated to you and your Mac muse. I can only hope I did your wonderful idea's justice as this story comes to an end.**

**Please let me know what you think with a review or PM, I'd really appreciate some praise or constructive criticism. **

**Typical Mac Warning: This chapter contains harsh language, physical and verbal abuse, and fetish/BDSM fantasies that may be offensive to some readers. Viewer discretion is advised.**

* * *

Aberdeen paced back and forth past the living room window. She had no idea where she was. She had woken up here, wearing only Mac's grungy coveralls.

The little house was tacky. Everything looked like it had been there since the seventies. The scheme was all olive and rust, warm creams and rustic wood. She was surprised to find that the quaint house had power, though it was dirty and looked like it hadn't been lived in for months.

She heard Mac's truck before he saw it. It creaked to a stop outside of the door, just beside the window Aberdeen had been pacing in front of.

Everything started to make sense, only not at all.

"Yer awake." Mac grumbled as he shoved himself in the front door.

"What the fuck is this place?"

"S'Walter's. Summer home fer one o' his whores." Mac grunted. He placed a bag; Aberdeen's duffle, on the back of the couch.

"Walter?" He nodded quietly. "Why am I here, Mac?"

"Guess we gotta talk 'bout this." He motioned to the couch. "'Ave a seat."

"Mac, you're scaring me." She whimpered. "Why am I here? Where's Stan?"

"If I wanted ta hurt ye, y'ould be dead already. Yer safe 'ere. Stan's... busy. 'E knows yer here."

Slowly, she took a seat. "They know I'm here, don't they?"

"Sent out a country-wide fax. Wanna tell me what 'appened?"

"Does it matter?"

"Saved yer fuckin' life takin' ye here. Prolly the least ye could do."

She mulled it over in her mind. Everything they had been through the past few days... Mac had his own indiscretions to cover. She should be safe sharing hers. "I did it." She whispered.

"The fuck you say?"

"I fucking did it! I killed them both! I found out he was cheating and I followed them to her house. When they got inside, I fucking slit their throats! I didn't stop! I just kept stabbing them."

Aberdeen's voice cracked and she began to cry.

Mac didn't falter, nor did he look surprised by the sudden realization that Aberdeen Strickland committed murder. He placed the duffle beside her on the couch and came around the side to face her. "Got all yer stuff. I'mma have ta get rid o' yer car." Aberdeen looked up at him with teary eyes. "Gotta be done. Ye'll be safe here. No one comes by this place." He pointed down the road. "My place is right down there. Gotta pass me ta git here. If they do they won' git far. I'mma git ye outta this mess. No one's gonna know yer here. No one's gonna know ye still exist. When all's said an' done, yer gonna belong ta me. Can't ever leave." She bit her lip as he spoke, but her eyes never left his. Suddenly, his strong hand grasped her cheek, tangling in her hair and holding her face steady. "Say it."

"I'm yours." She whispered.

His hand tugged her hair tighter. "And?" He urged.

"I'm yours!" She said louder, with more conviction. "I won't ever leave." She admitted.

"That's my girl." He muttered. His mouth claimed hers in a powerful kiss, domineering and almost painful. He broke the kiss too soon and pushed her back onto the couch, standing back up before her. "Make yerself at home. Stan's gone ta git ye some food. I've got some shit t'attend to."

"Drugs." She muttered, more of a statement than a question.

Mac glared at her, almost stunned by her sudden revelation. He quickly brushed it off and walked to the door. "Don't do anything stupid ta draw attention to yerself. I'll be back tonight."

* * *

Time ticked by slowly.

She changed clothes. When she dug through the bag she noticed some things were missing: her wallet, for one... then one of her favorite shirts. The black one with gold studs on the shoulders.

Something that wasn't missing, though, was her bottle of Percs. She dry-swallowed two before she tried anything else.

Once she was dressed, she decided to rummage through the house. She kept the lights off, thinking it would draw attention. She had found a flashlight in a drawer and used it to search the home.

The bathroom was small. The toilet was broken. "Fucking perfect." She grumbled.

The closet, just in front of the front door, held only a shovel and a shot gun. Aberdeen had never used a shot gun in her life. She placed the tools back where they had come from and decided to look in the bedrooms.

She found few personal belongings. The rooms were fully furnished, though. Family photos were in the room that seemed to be the master bedroom. A blonde woman, very attractive. She had her arm around children, one could only assume they were hers. A young boy and an even younger girl. She was very pretty, like her mother. The boy was cute, but nothing particularly special. She placed the photo back and dust rose up from the table. Aberdeen inhaled normally and the dust filled her nostrils and irritated the channels, causing her to sneeze and cough.

"Abs?" She heard Stan holler. "Abby?"

"In here." She rose up and went to the door. She spotted him down the hall and walked to the kitchen. He was there, placing grocery bags on the table. The kitchen was a putrid yellow, but was relatively clean. The color alone made Aberdeen's stomach churn.

"You can keep the lights on. No one lives out here but Mac." He chuckled. His hands were now empty so he flipped the switch on the wall.

"I didn't know. I woke up here. I have no idea where I am."

"Ashton place. Devon, Reggie, their mom. She's Walter's favorite whore. Ever since they were teenagers. Mac told me once that Devon was Walter's kid. Don't know how true that is. Only met the boy a few times. They used to come back here every summer." He bit his lip as if he were weary of giving her more information. "Haven't come back in a few years, though."

Aberdeen absorbed the information, slowly pulling groceries from the bags. "Why am I in their house?"

"Walter keeps an eye on it during the year." Stan shrugged.

"He's not gonna notice?"

"What that really means is Mac watches it, I guess. He's literally a mile down the road. Ye can't get here without passing his house."

Aberdeen placed some cold cuts and cheese in the fridge, closing the door and leaning into the refrigerator for support. "I'm so confused."

"Abby... look." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "I understand."

She spun around, gripping his wrist and twisting his arm as she faced him. "Do you, Stan? Do you really understand? 'Cause I don't think you do." She saw the look on his face; terror, fear. She quickly released his wrist and began to sob again. "I need answers. I feel like my life isn't my own anymore. I just... God, I don't know."

"Look, let's get this stuff put away and we can talk. I can stay with you, if you want."

"I don't know..." She sighed. "Mac said -"

"Mac is otherwise detained."

"Is it the drugs?"

"How did you -"

"I'm not stupid, Stan. I know meth mouth when I see it. The cave... that's where you make it, right? You help?"

"We're partners." Stan hung his head, muttering the words. "Walter's our boss."

"Walter?"

"Mac's dad."

Aberdeen's eyes grew wide with realization, she was stunned into silence. Everything started falling into place.

"Look, what Mac's doing... it's gonna get the heat off of you. Walter, well, let's just say he doesn't want you around. You're a distraction." Stan admitted. "Mac... I don't think he'll be able to change his mind. After all this is said and done... you can move on. Change your identity. Have a nice life."

Aberdeen stood in silence as Stan finished putting away the food. "Remembered some of the stuff you ate when we were kids." He muttered, trying to fill the silence. He held up a bag of Goldfish crackers.

"That's fine." She said coldly, not taking the bait.

"Can I make you something? Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Alright..." He put away the last item and took the bags, crumpling them before tossing them out.

"Go ahead and say it." She spat. "Tell me how stupid I am. I know you want to."

"Abby... Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I fucking did it! You already know that!"

"I don't know anything about you anymore, Aberdeen! We fucking grew up together! My parents raised you after the accident, when your parents died! We used to be inseparable!" He growled. "You should be better than this, better than these men you keep joining up with! Fucking Zach was a prick, he mistreated you. Used you. I don't blame you for killing him, but your head isn't in a good place!" He took a deep breath. "Now Mac? What's going on here?"

"I can deal with the physical shit. That doesn't bother me."

"Yeah, you take so much oxycodone you cant feel a God damn thing."

She ignored his statement to further emphasize her own. "Zach… it was different. It was all emotional. The physical stuff… it's easier. I can handle it."

"So, you're really thinking about staying?"

"It's complicated."

"Yeah, I'd say so."

* * *

It was dark. Mac noticed the Luna Mesa was particularly busy for a week night. No matter. If everyone stayed inside, he should make it out alright.

He started Aberdeen's car and cringed. It was a loud little thing. He switched gears and pressed the accelerator and the little sports car shot off. "Well, shit." He grumbled, shooting through the parking lot and in the direction of the deserted highway.

He had thought this through all day in the cave. At this point he was tweaking pretty strong and just needed to let out some frustration.

He drove for almost two hours to the outskirts of Vegas. Yes, it'd be easy enough to find someone here. The red light district was busy, even tonight. He parked on the side of the road and sat down to wait.

In a matter of no time, he spotted her; the perfect girl. She was about the same height, similar build. Definitely not as pretty, but she would do.

He rolled down the window and called to her. "Hey, sweet cheeks. Lookin' for a good time?" She purred back.

"The best time." He smirked.

If she noticed something unsettling about his grin, she didn't let on. "Can I get in? Discuss the transaction."

He didn't speak. Just leaned over and nudged the door open for her.

She sat down in the leather seat, her latex outfit squeaking against it. "Nice ride you have." She smiled at him, flirtatiously.

"Yeah." He grunted.

"Soooo... what did you have in mind tonight?"

Mac got annoyed quickly. He quickly gripped the back of her skull and slammed her face into the dashboard. There was a sickening snap as her nose broke and she passed out. "Got real good plans fer ye."

* * *

"Y'aint sleep?" Mac growled as he entered the house. Stan had to go pick him up after the 'deed was done.' He wouldn't tell him what happened, just told him to watch the 6 o'clock news later that night.

Aberdeen sat with her knees drawn and her head lolling against the closet facing the door. The shot gun was in her hands, hanging lazily between her legs. "Couldn't sleep."

"Ye take all them pills?"

"A few."

"Christ, girl. Look at'cha. What ye need the shot gun for, anyway?"

"I guess I didn't." She murmured. "Made me feel better, though."

He snatched the gun from her hands and grabbed her wrist, heaving her up easily. He was so strong and she had little fight left in her. "Everything's done. Ye'll be safe now. Gonna have a little chat with Pratt. If he knows what's good fer him, he'll leave ye be."

"Yeah? What about your father?" Aberdeen smirked.

Mac's eyes grew cold and dark and he released his grip on her arm, practically casting her into the wall. "Ye have a nice little chat with Stan, huh? He tell you all my dirty little secrets?"

"For fuck's sakes, Mac! You know I can't stay! Why are we even playing this little game?"

"Ye can stay here. He won't ever know. The bitch an' her kids… they don't come back. Believe me, they won't come back."

"Mac, I can't live in this house by myself forever. I won't be happy. I'll end up hating you."

Mac contemplated this idea. He wasn't completely opposed to the thought of her hating him forever. "Well, ye ain't leavin'. Y'already promised."

"Mac." She sighed.

"Y'owe me, sweetheart. I intend ta cash in." He growled. His hand gripped her hip and nestled her body into his chest.

"Mac, this isn't going to work." She groaned.

His hand tangled in the back of her head, wrenching it back and tilted her face, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Y'ain't sayin' no ta me. I own ye." He said it so clear and so calmly that it startled her.

For the first time that she could remember, she was actually afraid of Mac. She realized the fear was driving her. All she really wanted to do was please him. This horror-wrenching, mess of a man who had come to her rescue.

"Knees. Now."

"Mac, I can barely bend my knees."

"Ye don't listen and ye'll never be able ta walk again. Git on yer knees." He demanded. He pressed her shoulder until she complied. She winced and hissed through her teeth, trying to cope with the pain she felt despite the Percocets in her system. "Good. Now git ta the master bedroom."

She looked up at him, questioning. "Crawl, bitch." He grunted. She took a deep breath, falling to her hands. She made her way to the bedroom, Mac following slowly behind her. Her knee scabs started to crack and bleed. She pushed through the pain. At the doorway to the room, Mac took the sole of his boot and kicked her, sending her falling forward. "Go on. Git up."

She rolled over onto her back, supporting herself with her arms and glared at him. "You could ask nicely, ye know."

"Ain't a question. Git up and strip."

"Yes sir." She purred, defiantly.

He leaned lazily on the threshold and watched as she slowly lost her shirt and pants, her eyes never leaving his. "All of it." He growled.

She smirked at him, cheekily, and ran her hands around her sides, snapping the clasp of her bra and slowly pulling down the shoulder straps. The brassiere fell to her side as she hooked her thumbs in her panties, wriggling them to the floor. She stepped out of them and waited patiently for instruction. "On the bed." She fell back on the bed, crawling her way to the center.

It had always been a secret to desire of Mac's to ruin Mrs. Ashton for his father. This might not be what he had in mind, but it was something. "Show me what ye want me ta do to ye." He rasped. "Show me with yer fingers."

She laid back and spread her legs, careful not to bend them. Slowly, tantalizingly, she parted her warm, wet folds to Mac's hungry eyes. She skimmed the seam of her pussy, petting it and spreading her juices before she centered in on her clit, slapping with a loud smack. Her forefinger swirled slowly, nudging the stud there, tugging on it lightly. She repeated the process until she began breathing heavily. Her back arched as she slid two fingers into her slick channel, clear up to the knuckle.

"Fuck, baby. That's it." Mac groaned. She had almost forgotten he was there.

She pressed harder, grinding her fingers against that rough, spongy spot that made her toes curl.

"Don't fuckin' cum, Aberdeen. Don't you dare." He growled. He crossed the room and fell between her thighs. Her hands quickly left their ministrations and tangled in his hair as his tongue found that stud and his teeth bared down on it, tugging in tandem with the wriggling of his expert muscle.

"Fuck, Mac." She sighed with her last gasping breath before she came crashing down, her orgasm racking her body with wave after wave of pleasure. Mac's mouth rode through it, never letting up once as she fought to regain composure.

"My dirty fuckin' cunt." Mac murmured. He shifted, getting on his knees between her legs. He kissed the studs on her hips, trailing his tongue up her stomach, dipping into her navel. Slowly, her trailed around her nipples, grinding his teeth against them and causing Aberdeen to arch her back to his mouth. "I want ye ta stay." He grunted between nips and licks. "Yer mine." His mouth crashed on hers with intent. He bit her lower lip and pulled away. "Roll over."

"Mac, please. My knees." She whined.

"Just trust me." He moaned, pushing her over. She rolled onto her stomach, one leg cocked so she could watch him over her shoulder. "Just like that."

He tugged off his flannel shirt, popping all the buttons in his haste to get naked. He tossed the shirt somewhere on the floor and undid his pants in record speed, shoving them to his knees and falling against Aberdeen's back. His hands reached up, around her stomach, cupping her breasts and arching her into his chest. His cock nudged between her ass cheeks. He pinched her nipples and pushed his hips forward and he slid right into her, up to the hilt. "Fuck." She hissed, spreading her legs a little more for him.

"Ye like that, don't cha? How Mac fucks that pretty pussy o' yers?"

"God, yes." She managed to breath out.

"Ain't no other man gonna be able ta do this fer ye." He growled. He found a faster pace, thrusting his hips punishingly, abusingly into her, pounding her fragile body into the mattress. She managed to wedge her hand between her thighs, twisting and pulling on her swollen clit as Mac followed a similar procedure with her aching nipples. He felt her clenching around him, knowing her next orgasm was close. He tugged her upper body up off of the bed and clenched his teeth into her perfect, porcelain skin, at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. That pain mixed with her pleasure and she shook, trembling from her second intense orgasm.

Her tight little cunt clenched, sucking Mac's cock hard until he came, gushing hot cum inside of her hot, wet confines. He growled as he did it, spewing curse words and muttering her name until he collapsed on top of her.

* * *

"Here we go." Mac muttered, turning the television a little louder.

The scene that flashed by on the screen made Aberdeen go weak. It was her, only it obviously wasn't, burnt to a crisp in her beautiful lime green Honda, blazing on the interstate as traffic stopped. Firefighters fought to control the blaze as they zipped the girl into a black body bag and wheeled her away.

_"A woman was killed today in a head on collision. Las Vegas police were called to the scene when one, Aberdeen Strickland, 28, drove her Honda Accord head first into an off exit ramp driving East on interstate 15. The engine combusted on impact and the car set on fire. Officials were called to the scene to extinguish the fire, but it was too late. Toxicology reports revealed that miss Strickland had an abnormal level of oxycodone and alcohol in her system. There were no other fatalities in the incident. Strickland leaves no immediate family."_

"How did you –"

"Found some straggler, someone no one would ever miss. Cop's 're stupid. Find an ID on a person, don't even bother with testing the shit."

"So… so I'm dead?" She whispered, still in shock. The feeling was very surreal.

"T'everyone else. Cainville ain't even gonna notice yer presence. Ye'll blend right in."

"Pratt?" She murmured.

"Hell's he gonna do? Spout his mouth off 'bout some dead girl bein' alive? 'Sides, he knows better than ta tangle with me…" Mac smirked an evil grin.

"And Walter?"

"Like I said, he wants to keep up business, he'll let ye stay."

* * *

**Six Months Later**

The vibrant blue Viper pulled up past the pasture and parked on the road, just behind the raggedy, beat up old pick-up. The contrast between the flawless cyan blue vehicle and the red, broken old truck made her chuckle to herself.

The female figure that exited the vehicle approached the cave with purchase, sauntering her way to the doorway, past the cryptic "No Trespassing" sign and over threshold. By now, the winding tunnels, still shrouded in darkness, were like a second nature to her. That familiar chemical smell wafted to her nostrils and she draped and arm over nose, inhaling her own cocktail of warm vanilla and sweet citrus.

"Babe?" She called out into the open cavern. "You almost done in here?"

"Barely even started." He growled. She had a hard time distinguishing the worda underneath the gas mask. He tipped up the mask and took a swig of the beer he had been holding. "Whatcha doin' out here?"

"Stan sent me. There's a bit of an incident at the garage."

"Fuck he do now?"

"Nothing, really. Guy brought in an RV. Stan has no fucking idea what he's doing. This old couple's stuck here till it's fixed. They said they would pay top dollar if it got done by morning." She slowly crossed the cavern, neglected the old demons that plagued this space for her and kept her hand over her nose as she approached the noxious chemicals.

"S'wrong with it?"

"Fuck if I know. I just file the paper work. I'm hardly a mechanic."

He smirked at her, mask still tilted on his head. "Know a thing 'r two 'bout work under the hood?" He snickered.

She playfully slapped his arm with her free hand. "I can take over here if you want."

"You don't know a damn thing 'bout this. Best get outta here 'fore ye lose more o' dem brain cells. S'already gettin' ta yer head."

"I've seen you do this a thousand times. It doesn't look so hard." She muttered, stepping between him and the table of ingredients.

He sat the beer on the table beside her, bracing his hands on either side of her hips, gripping the table and grinding his already prominent erection into her back. "It doesn't, huh?" He growled in her ear.

She rolled her hips back into him, causing him to growl. "This is a bad idea." She muttered.

She knew how volatile these chemicals were. One wrong move and the whole cave would blow with them inside. It was a lot like her relationship with Mac; always on edge.

"Let it fuckin' blow." He growled, nipping her ear.

There was no arguing with him when he was like this. She knew he had been dipping into the stash.

"If that fucking ammonia burns my skin off, I'm not coming back. Good luck finding me in the canyons." She countered.

"Be careful, then." He nipped at her neck and slipped his hand down to the button of her jeans, working her pants down to her ankles. He knelt behind her, nipping her ass as his teeth sank into the elastic of her panties, working those down to her feet as well. His coveralls snapped open quickly and he let the arms fall to his waist. His length sprang forth from his boxers easily enough and he gripped her hips, holding her steady.

One wrong move and they would have a fucking mess on their hands. "Aberdeen." He growled, his erect dick thumped at her waiting entrance. She thrust herself backwards at the sound of her name, raspy and husky from his liquid honey voice. He plunged into her with a grunt and pulled back on her hips to ease up the death grip she had on his work station. She heard the glass vials and beakers clatter and the noise startled her.

She ground back against him and knocked him off skelter. He pulled her back and they knocked into the cavern walls. His hand slammed against the metal locker as Aberdeen chortled with laughter. She kicked off her boots as he grunted, trying to regain balance. She got her pants off and finished stripping, pulling off her oversized tee-shirt and snapping her bra open, letting it fall to the dirt floor with her other clothing. "Ready to admit that was a bad fucking idea?"

"Git over here, girl." He husked. She walked up and braced her hands on his shoulders as he picked her up, causing her to squeak. He wrapped her legs around his waist, her knees bending easily as the scabs had long worn away, leaving only light scars in their wake. Mac spun her around so her back brushed into the cavern walls. As her back hit the cold red clay, his cock drove into her. She winced at the sudden fullness and Mac nipped at her chest. He was still fascinated with her, even after all these months. She allowed him to roll lazy circles around her perky pink nipples as his fingers dug fresh bruises into her hips. His thumbs rolled lazily over those anchors in her hips.

Her mouth connected with his one last time, entwining their tongues hungrily before she pulled back abruptly, tugging the gas mask back over his face. Her eyes connected with his through the mask and he howled as he picked up his brutal pace. She willed her head not to roll back in pleasure, settling for digging her nails into his strong biceps. Her heels dug into his back, holding him close. "Fuck, Mac. I'm so fucking close. Baby, don't stop." She managed to choke out the words, trailing her nails up his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck, clutching him close.

She detonated around him like a chemical explosion and set off Mac's impending demise a well. She bit hard into the flesh of his chest as she unwound, but he held her steady, growling as she howled her completion.

They survived the explosion and made it through together.


End file.
